


Re: Mondo

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, G - White Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-05
Updated: 2009-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-20 16:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: A brief look into Ray Carling's head.





	Re: Mondo

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** A pinch hit for the Life on Mars [2008 Ficathon](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/1407032.html), for Elfbert. The prompts were _Ensemble (but preferably Ray-centric!), case-fic, stakeouts on cold dark nights._. Unbeta'd as I was running (very) close to the wire – if anyone wants to leave me concrit, I'd be pathetically grateful!
> 
> Spoilers for Life on Mars 2.08

I 'ate bloody stake-outs.

 

 

Which is a bit of a bugger really, as since that nancy, poncy, poofer of a boss turned up, it's pretty much all we seem to do, Chris and me. BT, that's before Tyler, life was good. We'd find the crims, bash a few 'eads and then be in the pub by clocking-off time. Now it's all 'observe from a distance', 'establish facts', 'secure crime scenes' and other such poncy crap. All of which boils down to Chris and me spending all our time freezing our bollocks off, sitting and 'observing'. 

 

 

Take now for instance. We're parked up behind some old biddy's house, waiting for 'er scumbag of a son to turn up. Word on the street is 'e knows more about a recent robbery in an off-licence than a man who was supposedly visiting 'is Nan at the time should. Time was, as soon as the little shit showed 'is face, we'd nick 'im and then haul 'im off down the station for a round of Twenty Questions. Only Tyler 'as it in 'is head that what the criminal fraternity says 'as to be taken with a pinch of salt. So now we only observe and follow at a distance, if necessary.

 

 

If you ask me, it's just because the poncy git wants in on the action, but won't sacrifice a good night's sleep for it. And, as 'e's the boss, 'e gets the full eight hours, while muggins 'ere is stuck out in the cold night, with nothing to while away the time 'cept a battered copy of Just Jugs and the dubious company of a div with a snore like an elephant.

 

 

Now that's criminal, if you ask me.

 

 

As is what all this airy-fairy policing's doing to me love-life. It only takes a couple of missed dates to put the kibosh on activities of a more carnal nature. Plus women seem to be naturally more suspicious. As much as I told Sal that it was the job that was interfering, she was convinced I 'ad a bit on the side. Which I didn't. Nance 'ad thrown me over a couple of weeks before. And I 'ad my eye on a blonde, a welder of all things. But it don't seem so worth it, if she's going to go the same way. Still got 'er number though. If Tyler bogs off back to Fairyland, or wherever 'e comes from, I might just chance me arm there.

 

 

Bloody Tyler.

 

 

I just bet 'e's wrapped up nice and warm, dreaming about whatever stuck-up little gits dream about. Bet 'e's even got Cartwright there, though goodness knows what she sees in 'im. Probably thinks of 'im as a special care in the community project or summat.

 

 

Cartwright is a bit of all right. I don't normally hold with birds on the team. Not that they're as likely to faint at the sight of a little blood as not, they 'ave to deal with childbirth and what-have-you. Tougher than most men in that, really. But you can't deny that they're not as physically strong as us blokes. But our Cartwright is a sharp one. Knows a few nasty tricks as well, which make up for not being as brawny as the rest of us. Excluding Tyler of course. Now 'im you could knock over with a feather.

 

 

What was that? Definitely saw a movement of some kind. Over by that wall. I'm not even supposed to get out and 'ave a look, in case it blows our cover. But 'ow the 'ell do you tell what's going on when you can't go and 'ave a look-see, eh? For all I know, Jonesy is hiding out there, just waiting to pounce on us. And that wouldn't go down well with the Boss. Or the Guv for that matter.

 

 

Might chance it a sec…

 

 

Oh, it's a cat. Big tom by the look of it. Knocked over a couple of bin lids back there. No 'arm done. Di'nt even set foot outside the car. Tyler will be so happy.

 

 

Ponce.

 

 

Still, not much longer to go now. The Guv promised us that if tonight was a washout, we could drop the eyeballing and do some proper policing tomorrow. We know where Jonesy drinks and it won't take too long for 'im to get so tanked up 'e'll 'come quietly'.

 

 

Looking forward to that. Might even let Cartwright 'ave a go at 'im. She was severely cheesed off when she saw what 'e did to that kid.

 

 

I wonder what time it is. I lost me watch last week when we were chasing Tiny and I've not 'ad chance to get a new one yet. The clock in the car 'ere 'asn't worked for ages and I can't ask Chris as 'e's still dreaming the dreams of the just.

 

 

S'not fair to the lad. 'e's not been sleeping properly since the train heist. Even 'is Mam 'as 'ad a word with me about it. Of course I've tried to jolly him along, get 'im interested again. But you can see it in 'is eyes, 'e's considering a career change, something where your git of a boss don't leave you 'igh an' dry, to be shot at by blokes with sawn off shotguns.

 

 

An' that's the bit I can't properly forgive Tyler for. Never mind trying to fit the Guv up on corruption charges. The Guv can look after hisself. But leaving Annie and Chris in that guard's van with that madman Johns taking potshots at them? What kind of a man does that to 'is squad? Just as well 'e chickened out of it in the end, else 'e really would've had something to scream about, once I'd caught up with 'im.

 

 

In the meantime, it's us that's picking up 'is pieces. Tyler's tucked up warm, while poor ol' Chris can't sleep without someone else with 'im and is reduced to catching a few hours' kip in a freezing cold car. 

 

 

I'm bloody knackered. But, I reckon, another ten minutes and then I can get a couple hours before going down to the station and starting a proper day's work. 

 

 

Oh, bloody 'ell. It's Jonesy. I better radio in and wake up the Sleeping Beauty. Looks like I'm not going to get my couple hours tonight.

 

 

_The End_


End file.
